The Princess and the Apocalypse
by QuiteAlotOfSodaPop
Summary: I'm terrible at summaries. Nicola knew she was being dumb when she travelled down south to Georgia, but in the middle of the apocalypse of all things? Features Genderbent!Nick. Rated M for language and possible adult themes. BEING REWRITTEN.
1. Castle Under Siege: Act One

"Castle Under Siege

The blaring pink sign of _"The Vannah"_ caused a nasty glare in Nicola's eyes as she got out of her taxi. After a long day in the casinos of this dumb red-necked town, she simply wanted to lie down in any bed that wasn't flea-ridden.

Picking up her suitcase, she fixed her white suit jacket as she passed by a particularly handsome young hick wearing a jumpsuit near the hotel's entrance, causing the boy to fix his gaze on her before losing his footing on a step.

Nicola smiled to herself as the hick clumsily got back up _"Still got it."_

The automatic doors swung open to reveal a large mess of people in the waiting area, some loners, some couples, but mostly families with too many kids to count. From the look of it, they were all very somber, as if all of their grandma's died in the same night.

Suddenly frustrated by this turn of events, the con-lady strolled up to the reception desk and leaned against the hard wood before asking:

"What's with the pity party? Somebody die or something?"

The clerk looked at her nervously, as if she had said something absolutely insane "Many of the residents are here for the CEDA screening, suppose you didn't see the news this morning?"

"I don't pay attention to politics." Nic yawned in boredom, examining her nails. "Something about that Green Flu shit right?"

"Well, yes. The CEDA members are screening people and giving them vaccines in the second lobby." he pointed to the room nearby, which was currently guarded by two men in...hazmat suits?

"_Why would a flu vaccination need hazmats?"_ Nic brushed the thought off and continued to inquire the clerk. " Any rooms free?"

"Only on the top floor." he answered, reaching behind him for the key.

"Deal." the con-lady agreed bluntly, exchanging a few twenties for the key.

Nic's instant impression of the hotel room was "trailer trash mating grounds". Everything from the double bed with tacky bedsheets to the TV on the dresser reminded her of a medium-quality motel room with slightly nicer wall-paper.

Plopping her suitcase down on the bed, Nic began the task of removing her excess clothing. As she rubbed her sore feet ("The pains of being beautiful." she gritted when she removed her pumps), she heard a fair bit of commotion coming from the hallway.

A manly "Fucking Damn!" was followed by a shocked female "Ellis! Such language!"

Nic opened her door to the sight of a very large matronly woman flanked by a struggling male. They were both straining to carry a herd of suitcases across the hall, a wheel from one of them had broken off, frustrating the male to a breaking point.

"Need any help overalls?" The con-lady asked dully, recognising the boy's jumpsuit from earlier.

"Well n-"

"Yes, thank you!" the woman (obliviously the boy's mother or aunt) butted in before he could answer, allowing Nicola to lift up two of the smaller cases with relative ease.

The woman gave a glittering smile as the "Ellis" trudged the heavier cases behind him. "We ladies have to keep the men in place don't we?" she whispered to Nic, giggling slightly.

They opened the hotel room to reveal two other men, one talking nervously into his mobile phone and the other relaxing on the bed as he lazily flicked through the channels on the TV.

"Paul sweetie, is there any news from the hospital?" the woman asked the one with the phone.

The newly-dubbed Paul gave a relived smile before turning off his mobile "Keith got evacuated along with Dave."

"Oh thank the lord." the woman sighed, holding a manicured hand to her heart. She turned to Nic and genuinely smiled. "My youngest is in the hospital, we've been so worried about him."

"Lemme guess; Green Flu?"

"Heck no!" Ellis piped up excitedly, being mindful of his language around Keith's mama. "He burnt himself deep-frying a turkey. Over 90 percent I bet."

"_That's the most red-neck injury I have ever heard." _Nicola snarked silently. "My condolences. I gotta catch some ZZZ's before I drop dead. Nice seeing ya." she left the room unceremoniously, leaving the family of hicks stunned at her bluntness.

"**05:56"** the alarm clock taunted Nicola's insomniac eyes.

"This is what you get for being a night-owl Nicky." she seethed to herself, pulling the white suit jacket over her blue blouse. Hopefully the 24-hour bar downstairs will make this piss-hole of a trip a bit more bearable.

As she made her way to the elevator down the hall, she collided with the back of a very much dazed and confused Ellis.

"Oh! Sorry miss." he apologized through embarrassment.

"Why are you up Overalls?" Nic asked irritated.

"Well Keith's mama and brothers were evacuated about half an hour ago. Women and families get evacuated first." He explained worriedly. "I tried calling my folks but there's no answer at home."

"What's with this "evacuation" bull? There's no iceberg or fire. All I heard was that there's a flu screening."

"Are you new to town or something?" Ellis asked suddenly, raising a brunette eyebrow. "CEDA's been evacuating healthy people all day cus' of the Green Flu."

"What the hell, I go hear for a weekend and the whole trip turns ass-ways!" Nic vented. "Any idea where anyone's being sent to?"

"Some type of disease centre I guess."

"Disease centres are federal kid." Nicola cooled herself down and began thinking rationally. "Whatever this Flu is, looks like it's tearing the medical textbook a new ass hole."

"You think it might be incurable?" the mechanic asked as the two made their way into the elevator.

"Nah, just we haven't got the cure yet." she joked light-heartedly. "Suppose it killed a higher up right? Cause a huge panic. Kills a few nobodies and no one cares, kill a healthy, non-smoking, non-drinking white male governor and the world goes ape-shit."

"Suppose so." Ellis shrugged his shoulders. "Last time I saw something like this was way back in elementary school, supply going into the water fountains was tainted and a lot of kids got diseases I never even heard of before. Now Keith was dared to drink a jug of it and he had to be carried off to the hospital cus' he got three types of parasites only seen in deer."

"If everyone just uses a fuck-ton of hand sanitizer, we'll be okay." Nic ignored that ramble and fixed the last few buttons on her jacket.

The elevator doors pulled open to a scramble of people rushing about the lobby. They were rushing in and out of the bathrooms and strange green tents. A man in a hazmat suit was bellowing instructions that fell onto deaf ears.

"Whoa! The fuck is going on?" The con-lady growled.

"Everybody's trying to get out at the same time. See those army boxes?" he pointed to a group of people tripping over each other for strange silvery packets. "MREs. Army suppers and essentials. Looks like either there's something nasty outside or they aren't too happy."

"Oh hey the media!" Nic's attention was instantly drawn to a camera man and a reporter near the entrance lobby. "Does my hair look okay? I want look presentable during a riot ." she snarked, patting her slicked dark-brown hair.

"They probably know more than we do, wanna go ask 'em?"

"Aren't we going to do anything else?"

With that said the two began making their way across the sea of panicking residents. Despite the constant shoving and the random insults thrown at her by even angrier members of the crowd, Nicola was able to step foot onto the tiles of the entrance lobby, hick following closely behind.

The reporter was currently busy interviewing a heavy-set man wearing a purple and yellow football jersey. Her casual pink Depeche Mode t-shirt and jeans instantly gave away her status as an intern.

"...now I didn't really care about the infection at first until one of my quarterbacks collapsed mid-game. Suddenly two-thirds of the school were in the nurses office."

"Can you give me the run-down of the symptoms?" she held the microphone closely between them, trying to block off any back round voice.

"The patterns are a bit iffy. One moment you feel fine, the next you have a waterfall coming out your nose. A bit like your average flu but more...aggressive."

"Thank you for your co-operation Coach."

"Much obliged Miss Rochelle."

"Coach? Coach Freeman?" Ellis asked happily.

The heavy-set man spun around and his face broke into a all-knowing smirk. "Ellis Miller. Thought I saw the last of you and your troublemaking friends at graduation."

"Naw Keith streaked across the pitch two years ago during play-offs, he was wearing a horse mask at the time so you didn't see his face."

"Clears up that mystery at least." he replied chuckling, his eyes suddenly fell onto Nicola. "Who's your lady friend?"

"Name's Nic. Don't bother learning it cus' I ain't sticking around long. Hoping to get an idea of what the fuckery is going on around here and head back to Vegas."

"You're from outside Savannah?" Rochelle asked excitedly, clutching the microphone tightly.

"New Vegas sister, about a couple of states away." Nic straightened herself up, knowing that a small interview was unavoidable.

"Did you notice anything up there regarding the Green Flu epidemic?"

"I keep to myself mostly but I did see a natural decline in casino patrons, I just thought they went south for the winter to the riverboats so followed."

"Can you identify the symptoms?"

"Sneeze, vomit, fever, shit like Splash Mountain, you know a regular night on the town."

Rochelle chuckled awkwardly before turning to the camera. "And there you have it. The disease, although alarming, has not advanced to the stage of nation-wide panic, I warn those living on the east coast to take care of themselves in case t-"

She screamed as a gunshot flew over their heads, causing the group to all duck down and hold their heads. "Th-there appears to be violence breaking out at the evac site. Someone has begun shooting into the crowd, possibly a CEDA member or a possible rebel-"

"EVERYBODY GET THE FUCK DOWN." A loud voice hollered over the panicking mass of people, all heading for the exit. More gunshots began sounding off as the screams began to get more frantic and desperate. A few men were firing wildly into the crowd, many shots hitting some young couples and a few lone wolves.

"Carlos did you get everyth-" Rochelle's inquiry was cut short by a shotgun blast connecting with the dome of the cameraman, leaving a nasty spurt of blood around him.

Nicola stared at her now ruined skirt, her intense hatred of germs plus a drive for survival urged her to pull out the magnum pistol from her pocket and aim for the ass-hole with the shotgun.

His head exploded with a pretty silvery bullet to the temple. His two comrades stared around for the perpetrator before both collapsing from instant lead poisoning to the limbs and chest.

Nicola stood up with a mixture of cockiness and confusion, walking over to the only living shooter and kicking his gun away.

"The fuck were you doing, shooting at people like that?" she smirked venomously.

"Killing those damn infected of course! Everyone in this fucking hotel is infected!"

"With the Green Flu? Sorry buddy, shooting into a crowd of scared people isn't gonna make you a martyr, it's gonna make you a spree killer."

"FUCK YOU, YOU CU-" the shooter was silenced by the sight of some hoodie-wearing kid leering over him, his arm bleeding profusely from a gunshot wound. He bruised mouth let loose an angry growling noise.

Nic smiled evilly. " He's all yours."

She was about to offer the kid a gun but was cut off by a loud _**"RAAGRRHHHHH!**_" as he set about tearing the shooter limb from limb.

"Or go with that whatever." Nicola commented, unfazed after a few years in organised crime had taught her to expect anything.

Ellis looked on in what appeared to be either fear or complete admiration as Nic strolled her way back to the three other survivors.

"Oh god, oh god, oh god." Rochelle began panicking. "Everyone's gone."

Indeed, the resulting shoot out had scared off most of the people inside, one or two stragglers ran off to hide in a secluded area of the hotel.

"There's a helicopter upstairs, probably still up there." Ellis commentated, rushing towards the flight of stairs.

The three others followed in a mad rush, their feet pounding up each floor like soldiers ready for combat. Half way up the man known as Coach began panting from exhaustion.

"Why couldn't we just taken the elevator?" he asked tiredly.

"Stairs are faster, 'sides you look like you could use the exercise."

Coach stared disapprovingly at the con-woman's comment, she reminded him of the catty, unreasonable young ladies back at the school.

As the door to the heli-pad swung open, the group was almost blasted back by the whirl of helicopter blades. Their ticket to freedom was literally flying away.

The group began screeching like banshees in an attempt to catch the pilot's attention.

"HEY GET BACK!"

"THERE'S STILL PEOPLE ON THE ROOF!"

"COME BACK! COME- awww he ain't coming back." Coach's yell deflated as the chopper flew away north.

"That chopper looks like it's heading for the evac centre at the mall." Ellis stated, wiping his sweaty forehead.

"Gotta agree. Let's follow them to the mall."

"I'd hate to burst your bubbles guys, but with psychos like the ones downstairs we need to arm ourselves." Nic interjected, gesturing to her magnum.

The four scanned the rooftop before finding a small bundle of militant goods. First-aid kits, fire axes, crowbars, and left behind pistols of evacuees.

"_Remind me never piss off hotel staff."_ Nic mumbled under her breath as she picked up an axe.

The four walked cautiously down the steps, the door to the eighth floor had been closed on their way up.

"All right we're all friends now..." Nicola said as she opened the door.

Nic had seen many things, a guy getting his head blown off, a bouncer getting his head beaten in with a baseball bat (_"Ahh memories"_), and enough violent drunken bar fights for a lifetime but _**this**_ of all things?

"Zombies, eh? I knew zombies were real." she commented coolly as she pulled the trigger on her magnum.


	2. Castle Under Siege: Act two

"Castle Under Siege Act 2"

The bullets fell onto the heads of two running monsters, one of the bullets passed through a ribcage and clipped an idle third in the leg. In this shooting a silent female attempted to attack Nic from behind.

"Look out!" Coach barked, hitting the infected across the back of head with a cricket bat.

"Thank you." the suit wearer said as she reloaded her magnum.

A few hours ago if you were to tell Nicola Underwood that she'd spend her morning killing zombies, she'd more than likely pepper-spray you and then kick the family jewels. But at the moment her pepper-spray was trapped in her hotel room.

"This elevator is still working!" Ellis called out, ducking into it as if it would clamp shut at any moment.

"I don't think you're supposed to use an elevator when the building's on fire." Coach gestured to the mass wall of flames nearby.

"Technically...But that might not apply during a ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE."

Followed quickly by the three others, Ellis pressed the ground floor button and swivelled around, a half-empty look on his face. "This some sorta nightmare? Goddamn zombie apocalypse and shit. Shit, shit, shit. What the hell we gonna do?" as his voice deflated, Ellis felt a hand of comfort on his shoulder.

"Settle down, son. We're going to be okay."

Nic looked apprehensively at her arms. They were adorned with scratches, most notably from the hoodie-wearing punk who pounced and tried clawing at her. _"No bites at least."_

A sudden, terrible thought came to her.

"Anyone get bit? Isn't that how this works?" she raised an eyebrow at Coach, who seemed to be drenched in the vital fluids of a particularly large zombie that had exploded upon impact with a cricket bat.

"No, I'm good. My friends call me Coach. I guess y'all can do the same."

The pink-shirt wearer extended a hand in greeting towards the mechanic. "Hey. Name's Rochelle, you?"

"My name is Ellis, but some people call me El. I really prefer Ellis 'cause El kinda sounds like a girl's name. But if you prefer to call me El I guess you can."

Nic rolled her eyes at the boy, he really enjoyed wasting oxygen didn't he?

"Name's Nicola...Nic." She answered curtly, making sure her magnum was reloaded.

Soon vision the elevator began to become blurry, the air became too heavy to breath in and out without a great deal of pain. Suddenly it hit the ground floor with a moaning stop.

"Whatever's behind these doors, it ain't happy." Coach whispered, hearing an odd gurgling/retching noise that made his stomach turn. He brushed the feeling off and stated loudly "Enough chit-chat."

The elevator doors were a painful, expected type of hot, like a curling iron during cool-down, the handle of a boiling soup-pot, or the hood of a well looked after Cadillac at high noon. Things that you know are hot, but end up touching anyway.

A sudden blast of heat and smoke made it's way into the survivors lungs, strangling the air out of them.

"_**RRRRAAAAAAAGHHHHHHHH" **_

The pretty _ding!_ of the elevator had echoed like a dinner bell being rung for Thanksgiving dinner. An entire horde (_"What do you call a group of zombies? A flock? A herd? A murder? A huge fucking problem that's what."_) was racing down the hallway, some seemingly apparated from the flames (before discovering that they were on fire and began falling down almost comically) and others exiting the kitchen area of the hotel.

Nic didn't want to think of what happened to the kitchen staff.

A foreign clicking noise was soon replaced by a storm of bullets raining down the stampeding horde. They turned to the other female in their group who was now clutching a very much functioning sub machine gun.

"Well, goddamn Annie Oakley! Where did you get the sub?" Ellis's face almost split in awe of the intern's shooting.

"Found it on the ground next to these three others." She pointed the barrel towards a small heap of weapons in front of the elevator door.

Nic didn't have to be asked twice, the sub's grip was like touching lukewarm wax but it would do the job.

Coach barrelled through the zigzagging path of smoke and embers into the kitchen area. He grunted in discomfort as the flume of flames on all sides forced them to climb over the hot metal table.

"_**geeererrughhh!"**_ That gurgling/retching noise again, Coach tightened his grip as they passed through the now incinerating second-lobby.

"Green guy!" Rochelle alerted the group towards a particularly disgusting zombie with trails of what appeared to be neon green spit flowing from her mouth.

They were about to blast it's head off when it spat something at them and ran off absent-mindedly into the entrance lobby.

The reaction was almost instant.

"WHAT am I covered in? !"

"Shit burns man!"

"Burnin' goo shit!"

The group scrambled away from the burning pool of acidic spit and were caught off guard by the sudden glare of sunlight from the entrance lobby's skylight.

"Safe room up ahead!" Rochelle called out, rushing towards a red metal door.

With all members inside Ellis moved two lonely chairs in front of the door as a barricade.

"Everybody okay?" he asked hopefully, getting a good look at his comrades.

Coach was coughing heavily into a smudged hanky, trying to dislodge the smoke from his lungs and replace it with good ol' Savannah air.

All of their clothing was lightly coated in a layer of smoky ash or soot, some fabrics had been torn in the scuffles (most noticeable being a small tear in Rochelle's jeans), their shoes were currently stained with a gooey green substance, more than likely the acid-like phlegm from the spitting zombie.

Good thing they were all wearing pants right?

"Oh shit." Nic swore through gritted teeth. The Spitter's acid was able to burn it's way onto her high-heeled feet, leaving a nasty almost-chemical burn on her left foot and a few welts on her right leg.

Ellis was about to pull out hi med-kit until he saw that the gambling woman had already taken out disinfectant and gauze.

She caught her team mates confused looks and explained. "I've done this before don't worry about it." They simply shrugged and passed it off as nothing.

As the three began patching themselves (and each other for bits that they couldn't reach), they began examining a map on the wall.

Rochelle nervously rubbed her hands together as she noticed the large red Xs on multiple cities, including Atlanta. "Oh my god. New Orleans is all that's left."

"It's only NOW that you notice the collapse of society?" Nic asked disbelievingly as she wrapped a bandage around her hurt foot.

"Reports were really fragmented...CEDA _never _told anyone it was this bad."

"CEDA can't do shit at the moment. They made up about a third of the zombies back there for crying out loud!"

"All right, all right let's not take all of it out on CEDA." Coach held up his hands defensively "I know a gun store around these parts. We can arm ourselves before we get to the mall across town."

"I guess living here's finally paying off for you guys."

"Ma'am. I don't think I like your attitude."

"Whatever."

Nicola would have to admit, Savannah did look sort of nice. Sunny weather, lots of foliage, tasteful buildings. It would be better if not for the zombies.

"Fucking charging thing!" she yelled as a beefed up zombie attempted to use it's own arm as a battering ram. It was dead before it even hit the wall.

As they mowed through lazy hordes of zombies the group indulged in idle chit-chat.

"So you honestly think CEDA's gonna be at the mall?" Rochelle asked as she tossed a bile jar into the middle of the road, allowing Ellis to Molotov the resulting cluster.

"Sure as hell! A lot of people went there for the Jimmy Gibbs Jr car show. Suppose the military would want to get there pronto."

"Who the hell is Jimmy Gibbs Jr?" Nic butted in after quickly dispatching a Boomer creeping on the top of the stairs.

"I've heard of Jimmy Gibbs. The man's a stock car legend!" Coach explained through gunfire.

"That man is an American hero. I would take a bullet for that man. If the laws of nature allowed it, I would bear that man's children."

"Great, I'm already getting sick of hearing about him."

The two Savannahites glared at Nicola but didn't comment on it, outsiders would never understand the passion for certain pleasures, including stock car racing, the Midnight Riders, and peach gravy.

After a few minutes of idle waking, the team began hearing things.

"_**Uuuuuhh ehe uuuuuuuh eh ehe ehe."**_ a low sobbing sound echoed through the streets.

"Let's follow that noise. Might be another survivor." Coach ordered, marching towards the source of the sound.

The sound began to get progressively louder and louder to the point that Nic was wondering why the infected hadn't torn the crybaby to shreds already.

The sobbing noises' source was found near a building complex barely a few blocks from the gun store. It looked to be a sickly, pale young woman wearing very little clothing. And man could she wail!

Her racking sobs tugged at the team's heartstrings, the girl was probably deserted by CEDA or was grieving for the loss of a loved one.

"Ma'am?" Coach asked cautiously. "You all right?"

The girl did not answer but her sobs began to descend into odd snorting noises, possibly of shock and relief.

"I understand that you may not want to be talking with us but honestly, do you need any help?"

The woman began rising to her feet, her sobs replaced with...growls?

Ellis instantly caught on. "Coach get back! She's a-!"

"_**AAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!"**_ the girl screamed, turning around to show bloodshot eyes, dull gray skin, and oh dear god her claws.

Coach didn't have time to react, the girl had sunk her claws into him as if she was searing a Christmas ham.

The heavy-set man was stuck on the ground, feebly shooting the girl with his hand pistol as his comrades fired almost two entire magazines of bullets into her head until she stopped moving.

"Come on man, back on your feet." Ellis helped the man up whilst Rochelle began patching up the gashes on his arms with ease.

"Let's take that as an example people. Never piss off a crying lady." he panted, wiping his forehead. "Damn she was strong."

"Don't worry about it big guy, a couple of more blocks and you can blast their heads clean off." the con-lady joked.

Every single step was beginning to get more and more cautious as time went on. The stunt with the female zombie (now affectionately named "The Witch" alongside many other explicative nicknames by Coach) had taught them a harsh lesson; the zombie apocalypse will not play fair.

From a Hunter tracking them, to a Smoker lassoing them, to a Boomer outright _vomiting_ on them, the Witch was one of the nastiest tricks that the apocalypse could have ever pulled.

Nicola began to wonder _"How many people fell for the Witch before we did?"_

Her train of thought was broken by an enthusiastic "Gun store's just up ahead!

The owners had obviously blown out of town seeing how the front door wasn't even locked or booby-trapped. The glass cases shattered with a simple kick, displaying their treasures to the world.

Nic skimmed her fingers over a well polished assault rifle, a M-16 to be precise, it was sleek, shiny, expensive, and unmistakably dangerous. Just the gun for her.

"Aww man this is so cool..." Ellis muttered in awe as he checked the focus on his sniper rifle, clicking on the laser sights left a distinct red beam towards the back door of the shop.

"Is that an intercom?" Coach asked before he pressed down on the button. "Hello?"

"Hello there." A gruff, masculine voice greeted. "I've barricaded myself on the roof with ample provisions, but in my haste I forgot cola. I'm guessing you four'd be heading to the evacuation centre in the mall. So here's my proposition. If you get some cola at yonder food store – I'll clear that blockade for ya."

Nic was almost dumbstruck by the man's request. "Sure. Why not?" she threw her hands up in frustration. "So let me get this straight: we get you your shit and you'll help us get to the mall, right? Okay, you screw us, and I will kill you with your own gun."

Coach calmly interjected "Nic, don't be like that. Cola and nuts might be this man's last meal. We can't deny him that. We get him his snacks, he helps us. I'm good with it."

The voice boomed a reply towards Nic "On my word as a gentleman I will do no screwing, ma'am. I'd come down there and shake on it, but I already welded the door shut."

She couldn't argue with that logic at least.

The Save 4 Less had been ravaged before they even got there. Bags of half-melted ice sat haphazardly on the pavement alongside propane tanks and scattered dollar bills.

Ellis was the first to notice something odd. "Looks like people broke in and looted the place out. If there's cola in there it's probably the last for the next hundred miles." he was about to pull the doors open before he was pulled back by Rochelle.

"There's an alarm in there. If we ring it we might alert every zombie in Savannah."

"Oh..."

The moment of clarity was broken by Coach barrelling in, Combat Shotgun at the ready. The four's ear drums were almost shattered by the loud security bell, and were fully obliterated by the collective roar of the marching squadron of infected.

Rochelle and Ellis stationed themselves outside the store, shooting down any zombie attempting to get in. Meanwhile, inside the store Nic and Coach were racing to find the soft drink aisle.

_Frozen goods...Dairy products..._

"I got the crazy man's cola!" the heavy-set man yelled triumphantly, holding the six-case over his head.

The two barged their way past the cashier desks into the outside world, dragging the two other team mates alongside them.

The run-and-gun proved only to be moderately effective as infected began scaling the gun store's building in attempts to attack the survivors. They finally got to the door leading to the roof, from the look of it, Whitaker had decked out the entirety of his store in case the end had come.

"Put the cola in the slot!" the man yelled through the intercom. Nic swore she saw his hands snake through the slot in order to grab his precious soft drinks. "Thank you for that! Now, turn around. Y'all ever see a tanker explode?"

Barely a few seconds later a blast of fire shot out the top of the building (presumably from a large grenade launcher) and hit a gas tanker, causing it to burst with heat and smoke, completely desecrating the surrounding street.

The team ran and bellowed out their own versions of "Thank you!" to the old man, who responded with a sincere "God watch over you."

"Oh god we're almost there!" Ellis wooed happily, feeling like his chest would cave in from either happiness or exhaustion.

The four rushed their way through the last barricade of infected, all lazily milling around a few abandoned buses and CEDA tents.

"We got a safe room uphead!" Coach bellowed like a general going into war, neatly smacking the head off a Smoker attempting to lasso him from atop a car.

The survivors ducked into the room and let out a victorious yell.

"You guys aren't so damn bad!" Nic praised as the door was shut.

**=I hope people are liking Girl!Nick. I tried making her pretty much the same character as him, just with...tracts of land. Please leave a review! :D**


	3. Castle Under Siege: Act Three

"Castle Under Siege: Act 3"

The rush of adrenaline had finally worn off as they began healing themselves. The full on barage of infected in the supermarket had taken a lot out of them.

Nic hissed as she pried her previously-blue high-heeled pumps off her feet, the bandage wasn't doing her feet any favors as her heels had been rubbed raw from all the running.

"Remind me to grab some running shoes while we're here all right?"

As Ellis turned away from telling a story about the time he was up in Atlanta, his usually goofy grin fell like an avalanche.

"Oh no..." he mumbled, grabbing an extra med-kit from the table. Ellis was prefectly aware of the dangers of hurt feet. "We better get you some dis-infectant when we're here too. My buddy Keith wore his mama's shoes to school as a dare once but he had to walk to school cus' the bus driver was out that day so they ended up cutting his feet and he got an infection in his fo-"

"Ellis." Nic interrupted, sending him a glare that would kill a Tank. "Is now the best time?"

"Okay." he replied, the grin reforming itself.

This "_Kappel's_" place seemed pretty damn deserted. Clothing racks had been picked clean and shelves cleared. Nic doubted any of the survivors had any sense of fashion.

"I hope somebody got out all okay..."

The bottom floor was completely dark, save for the area near the cashier desks. The zombies were absent-mindedly stumbling over themselves as the escalators cycled weakly.

"_I swear to god CEDA better be here.."_

Nic was able to snag a pair of men's sneakers from one of the very few un-ravaged shelves, making a note to grab extra tights while she's at it. She sighed as her feet slid into the soft footwear, promptly discarding her now ruined pumps by tossing them at a wandering infected's head.

To no one's surprised the jewellery department had been absolutely torn apart, left-over pill bottles replaced diamonds.

"_**Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrwwwwwwwwrl lllllllll..."**_

"The hell was that?" Coach whispered, readying his auto-shotgun.

"Whatever did **that** I bet." the con-woman pointed to the store's metal security gate, a large corner of the gate looked almost folded over as if a gorilla had torn it open.

They cautiously ducked under the wrecked gate to find themselves on the first floor of the mall, surrounded by the linear jungle of clothes stores, office supplies, and from the looks of the map; a banquet-sized chunk of food joints.

"Please Lord... let the food court be okay." Coach seemed to pray, followed by three "Amens."

Tables were flung everywhere as if a full on stampede had happened, leaving a trail of brutalized infected corpses about the destroyed store fronts.

"Poor food court never stood a chance..." Coach sadly noted, his attention drawn to a dead hunter with what appeared to be a frozen chicken in it's mouth.

"What do you think went through here?" Rochelle asked as she almost tripped over what used to be a Jockey. "I guess a Witch could have done this, I mean she hurt Coach something bad didn't she?"

"Probably just a Witch." Ellis confirmed quickly, not taking his eyes off the upper floors.

Who ever this Witch was, she was **pissed**. As the team made their way up the escalator, they cast their eyes on a wrecked hallway. A door had been knocked off it hinges and used like a ramp of sorts into the employee areas.

The halls were slick with a sugary liquid (which was later found to be the result of a pulverized vending machine) and the blood of recently-dead infected.

A vending machine looked like it had been thrown through a door on the left hall, the reason left known by more bloodstains and a large dent in the machine's armour.

Each of the team was silently hoping that the "Witch" was long gone by now, hopefully nowhere in the 20-mile radius at least.

They found the employee entrance of a toy store titled "Just For Kids!" just down the hall. The "Witch" obviously took a different route seeing how despite some random infected, the store look completely stable.

Plush cuddly toys were caked with red-brown blood of the infected, a life-sized toy car was still the centrepiece of the store, and a dead cashier was face down into the cash register.

It was oddly jarring, like getting pricked with a needle or having a sudden wave of nausea hit you as you're lying down to go to sleep. They were torn between wanting to take their time to avoid attracting unwanted attension, or to start running and never look back.

They promptly chose the latter when a Charger bashed it's way through the store windows, causing the security alarm to blare a deafening noise.

"SOMEBODY TURN OFF THAT ALARM!" Nic yelled over the sirens of the alarm and the screeches of the swarming infected, blasting the Charger's head off with about three clean shots of her assault rifle.

The team were being attacked from all sides, the infected seemingly coming out of nowhere. The band of survivors began making their way upwards to the third floor.

"The noise's source would more than likely be on one of the higher levels, preferably the surveillance room." Rochelle muttered to herself, recalling her media training.

"Don't stop runnin'!" Ellis hollered over what sounded like a mixture of a Hunter's growls or the tell-tale cackles of a Jockey.

The con-lady and the red-neck were backing up the rear, shooting the shit out of anything trying to attack them from behind.

Instincts proven correct, Rochelle flicked the switch of the alarm box and dispatched the last of the infected riot with a swift _**thwack!**_ of her fire axe.

"Alarm's off!"

The team let out a collective sigh of relief. Ellis and Nic had barely made it through the door with their bodies intact.

"Aww shit! My ears are still ringin'." Coach grunted as he tended to his beaten ear drums.

"I can take the zombies but not that god-awful noise!" Nic laughed half-heartedly, popping a pain pill in her mouth.

The last stretch to the exac site was unceremonious, just a neglected hallway to a dingy garage shop of some sorts down on the second floor.

They rushed to through the throws of startled infected and found...

"Nothing?" Coach all but barked. The ground was absolutely crusted over with a coating of dry blood, possibly the work of the notorious Witch.

Ellis's normal hyper-activeness was all but demolished as he cast his eyes on a dead CEDA personal leaning over the table, a shot of adrenalin still clutched in his hands.

"Let's...let's just get to the main entrance." Rochelle attempted to lighten the mood. "They are probably all hunkered down there right?"

Ellis's smile reappeared at that statement. "Yeah! The car show was meant to be there! Maybe if were lucky we can meet Jimmy Gibbs Jr himself!"

The other three couldn't help but smile at their friend's blind optimism as they slowly walked up what was hopefully the last escalator.

Noticing a cluster of remaining forming on the First/Second floor escalator, Nic whipped out a Molotov and threw the flaming bottle through the window of a hair salon, making a clean inferno for any infected trying to get past there.

She didn't even hear the Witch screaming.

"_**AAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!"**_ was muffled horrifically through the flames.

The survivors soon found out what was worse than a pissed-off Witch; a pissed-off Witch **on fire**.

Ellis and Nic barely had time to turn around before they were both face-to-face with the blazing banshee of a zombie.

She raised her claws almost in execution, bringing them down **hard** on Nic's torso.

"HOLY SH-!" she was barely able to yell as the Witch replied with a smart slash across the suit's shoulder, causing the con-woman to almost topple over the side.

Barely able to hang on to the rubber handle of the non-working escalator was nothing to Nic, she'd been in worse scraps before (_"Hello Ex-husband"_), but the sheer image of the sickly, pale, _smoking_ woman about to slice her face off was definitely one of the most terrifying things she had ever seen.

The Witch hit the steps bloodily with a loud yelp as three different shots from same gun collided with her form.

"Nice shooting Ace." Nic snickered through a sore jaw towards a deservingly smug Coach.

Ellis took no time wrapping his arms around the sleek con-woman and practically lifting her above him, not letting her down until they saferoom door slammed behind them. Coach and Rochelle set themselves on checking and reloading all the guns while Ellis tended to their injured comrade.

"Damn Nic...She got you good." Ellis stated worriedly, his fingers ghosting over three deep cuts made just above the right breast. Cuts like that would leave a never-ending scar on the body, his mind reeled over a memory of Keith's first encounter with a raccoon but he quickly brushed it off.

As he was about to pour some disinfectant onto a cotton wipe, the injured con-lady held out her hand in front of her.

"I prefer to heal myself thanks." she curtly responded, taking the disinfectant and beginning to clean up her own wounds.

"No shame in needin help Nic." The hick was shot a disapproving glare from the lady in front of him. Deciding to change the subject he asked the only thing he could think of. "Were you a nurse or something before the apocalypse?"

"Took a course in first aid during college. Gave up medical tract for something a lot less...germ-infested."

"You afraid of germs? In the middle of the zombie apocalypse?" Ellis had a look of sheer awe as Nic nodded honestly. "That's badass."

For some reason Nic had to fight the half-proud half-flattered grin attempting to break through her face.

She slapped the medical patch over the cuts, now cleaned and covered the pain had gone down a few notches and left no more than a tingly feeling in her chest.

The power in the mall had all but shut off, save for a few dim lights in the main entrance. From the looks of it, the main entrance was being remodeled or something for a reopening around late October.

And not a living person in sight.

"Okay, so the evac station's abandoned, annnnd we're at the center of a zombie-filled building. On the bright side? We're all probably gonna die." Nic sarcastically growled, leaning against the see-through walls of the elevator. "So much for the rescue. Any ideas?

The crew looked stumped until the dim bulb in Ellis's head began shining.

"I've got an idea. You know them posters we been seein'? Get your picture taken with Jimmy Gibbs's stock car? That means it's HERE. We just need to appropriate it, and we got ourselves an escape vehicle."

The con-lady smirked and replied "I'd agree to the idea; but I call shotgun."

"Normally I wouldn't do this. But in these circumstances, I think Mr. Gibbs, Jr. ain't gonna mind." Coach said apologetically.

"Wherever he is, Coach - he's proud of you. Now, remember, they don't fill up these cars at car shows, so we're gonna have to find ourselves some gas." Ellis noted, pointing out multiple gas cans scattered around the vicinity.

"Soon as them doors open? You run your ass off and find some gas."

What soon started was like a demented game of finding cans of gas and tossing them over to an excited Ellis. The boy had stationed himself right by the blue racing car and was happily filling it up with gas, muttering sweet nothings into the fuel intake.

By the time they reached the last two cans, plus a small but uncoordinated horde of infected, the team was feeling pretty damn good about themselves.

"Aww yes!" the red-neck whooped as the eighth and final can was emptied into the tank, ducking into the driver's seat and almost stroking the steering wheel. He poked his head out to see a neglected can near the elevator. "Hey Coach."

"Yeah?" the heavy-set man panted, just excited as Ellis was about the car.

"Can you just grab that one over there? Don't want to run out in the middle of nowhere."

Coach nodded (although a bit irritated) and jogged slightly over to the expectant can, he was about to pick it up when-

"_**GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAWWWW WWWWRLLLLLLLLLL!" **_

The four stood gobsmacked, looks like the Witch wasn't responsible for all the mayhem earlier.

This zombie was HUGE. Larger than any person on earth and about the same shape of a gorilla. Completely covered in rippling muscle and pure brawn, it's jaw and hair was nearly nonexistent.

"Coach!" Rochelle yelled out, running to grab the stunned man from his daze and drag him back to the car.

"Step on it overalls!" Nic shouted as she shot the behemoth of a zombie through the window. Bullets didn't even seem to make a dent in the fucking thing, if anything it just made it a small bit more rageful.

Ellis had no choice but to drive through the doors of the Liberty Mall. The impact caused a nasty bump and they were spooked by the body of a common infected getting run over their windshield.

Speeding down the road, Rochelle looked behind her to see the tank-like zombie attempt to bust out of the mall doors, trying to hunt down the four it would take him a few hours to even catch up with them.

Ellis had the look of pure, undiluted joy on his face. Happiness seemed to burst out of his blue eyes like a lighthouse in a storm. He turned to Nic with a manic grin on his face.

"New Oreleans?"

"New Oreleans!" the three shouted happily, throwing their arms in the air, accidentally smacking them on the metal roof of the car.

**=Falling off elevator via Witch isn't the most romantic way to spark interest. I'm trying to make the relationship between Nick and Ellis be natural so if there's any suggestions: let me hear them. Please leave a review and suggestions for later chapters! :D**


	4. The Three Knights

"The Three Knights"

Nic leaned against the car door sleepily, it had been over a few hours since they drove through the mall Blues Brothers-style and frankly she just wanted some goddamn shut-eye.

She could hear Coach snoring lazily in the seat behind her, how the heavy-set man was able to completely doze off while inside a noisy high-speed race car Nic will never know. Rochelle was staring out the window at Georgia's countryside, her eyes threatening her to fall asleep with her Combat Rifle still clutched in her hands.

Even Ellis' usual puppy-like excitement had worn off a tiny bit, leaving the boy a yawning but happy mess.

The morning had been terrible for all of them, waking up to an apocalypse was never a good sign. Their muscles tired and aching, humans weren't usually meant to survive getting beaten up by over 1,643 zombies within the span of an hour (they still wondered how Ro was able to crank out those numbers) with only painkillers and first-aid kits to soothe the wounds.

The hick was estatic at driving his idol's car, his eyes rarely leaving the virtually deserted road to look at his teammates. Georgia looked absolutely gorgeous during the Autumn months, the tree's were taking their time dropping off but the nice breeze made the blazing sun a lot more bareble than the summer.

Ellis took a small glance at the back seat, giving Rochelle a reassuring smile and mentally tutting at a snoring Coach. He then turned his attension to Nic, who was very close to completely passing outt from tiredness.

His eyes fell upon the patch on her torso, covering the nasty scratches caused by a flaming Witch eariler on, as a small amount of blood was visable throught the stark white material. In fact, most of the gambling woman's white suit was covered in spolches of blood, bile, and god knows what.

The only thing that really disturbed Ellis from the whole affair was Nic's extreme passive (even bored) approach to killing hundreds of people – okay sick, aggressive, and possibly dead people but people none the less.

She'd had to have killed somebody before, maybe even in self-defence. It made Ellis' skin crawl trying to imagine her gunning down someone or commiting all sorts of atrocities. Luckily she seemed pretty serene right now, supporting her head tiredly with her hand.

Ellis would have to admit he'd be lying if he said she wasn't a good-looking lady. Nice slicked dark hair, a curved figure, really light green eyes, and clothes that looked more expensive then all of his own wardrobe combined.

Nic caught his gaze and replied with a sharp "What?", causing Ellis to reel his eyes back on the road.

"So..." he broke the silence. "It's gonna take a long time until we reach New Orleans, you guys think we should find ourselves somewhere to rest our heads?"

Coach smacked his lips as he stirred out of dreamland. "We goin' pass through Rayford, a couple of old farms right outside the city. Probably safer and a lot more comfy than sleeping in a car."

"Hopefully we won't have to spend the night in a barn." the con-lady muttered, checking her wounds.

To their delight the farmhouses were generally deserted save for a few wandering zombies and a Smoker who had somehow gotten his tounges stuck in a stable door.

Nic seethed through her teeth as tall grass brushed against her bandaged foot, the land right outside the low lying city was overgrown with all sorts of farmlife and pratically reeked of "country". From her observations, it was obvious that this "Rayford" was more of a touristy city rather than one that required the use of it's own farms.

Ellis was estatic to see a small herd of farm horses clopping right outside the fence of the animal pens, when ever an infected came near they simply either ran away or bucked at it with a bone shattering kick.

"Man I love horses.."

"Ever eaten horse? It's tasty." the con-lady's thoughts had begun to turn to how nice the equines would be like with potatoes and hollanaise sauce.

"Horses are for ridin', not eatin', Nic." the redneck replied almost offended by the thought.

Luckly the farmhouse was unlocked, the usual wooden frame-work was cracked from the sudden inclusion of the red safe-house door. The lingering scent of air freshener and a faint hint of bacon and eggs told them that the owners must have blown barely a few hours beforehand.

After blocking off the doors and windows with either furniture or with planks of wood scattered around they quicky divided the two bedrooms upstairs between genders. Nic and Rochelle got the big queen-sized bed whist Ellis and Coach were stuck in twin race-car beds adorned with appropriate bedsheets, not that the two men minded all that much.

"I call dibs on the shower." Nic said quickly, ducking into the bathroom before her comrades noticed it's whereabouts.

The shower head was connected above a cream colored bathtub lined with all sorts of washing-up liquids and essentials.

Sighing, the con-lady removed her clothing, ghosting her fingers over her feet and the gash on her chest as she removed the bandages.

"_Yep that's gonna scar."_ she seethed silently as hot water made contact with healing flesh, leaving a nasty stinging feeling.

She'd only been thrown into thismaddness this very morning but it felt like she was was having her first shower in months. Blood and bile flowed down the drain as she rubbed a bland-smelling shampoo furiously into her hair. She hadn't been this bloody since her wedding.

"_Things go sorta downhill when police have to be called in."_

A loud banging noise snapped Nic out of her thoughts, grabbing her magnum off the sink counter and aiming at the door proved futile as the noise was replied by an anxious voice.

"Hey Nic! Can you hurry it up? I need to use the bathroom!" Ellis whined, giving the con-lady the mental image of him dancing unhappily outside the door.

She growled as she quickly wrapped her body in a large pink foral-patterned towel and gathered her clothes in a bundle.

"Thanks Ni-" the hick's gratitude was cut short by an overwhelming flush of red to his face. The con-lady's bored gaze snapped him back to reality. "Th-there's a washing machine downstairs if you want to use it. Ya'know for your jacket and things."

"Thanks Overalls." she sauntered away as if the moment was completely natural to her, giving Ellis a fair view of her towel-covered backside.

He slunk into the bathroom and locked the door, deciding that he'd have to rinse away the sight of his naked comrade.

Nic was lucky to find Rochelle in the kitchen loading her own clothes into a washing machine, wearing nothing but an over-sized t-shirt.

"Raided the wardrobe already?" she raised an eyebrow and tossed her own bundle in, settting her sliver Rolex and magnum on the counter. As she slipped her underwear on, she reminded herself to raid the panty draw whenever she can.

"_Clean undies are gonna be worth more than diamonds."_

Rochelle gave a grin and handed the con-lady a large pale-blue shirt. "Nice to see your cuts are healing up alright."

"Stings like a bitch and it's gonna leave a scar but nothing serious." She got her head stuck in the neck and had to be rescued as the washing machine began whirling.

"So is it true?"

"What's true?"

"That you were a nurse before the zombies?"

The con-lady quickly reeled through every possible excuse before setting on the most basic. "Used to until I got into a nasty scuffle back in Vegas, came down south to blow off some steam with my poker buddies."

"Oh, good to have at least some medical help during all of this." Rochelle seemed content enough with the answer and began staring into space. "You think any other doctors and such got out of this okay?"

"Hope so or else we'll be knee deep in cholera and infection." Nic replied bluntly, her germaphobic side showing as she began to stare at her freshly wrapped foot as if it would pull a gun on her.

A quiet murmuring noise alerted them to the door.

It took both women 4 seconds to grab their respective guns and edge silently to the door. Nic tried to look through a crack in the barricaded door but the glare from the sun cloaked the three figures in dense shadow.

"I'm tellin' ya Zoey, that car wasn't there an hour ago." a gruff and anxious voice stated to another slightly obscured figure.

"An hour is all it takes to run and get eaten." Nic and Rochelle were slightly relieved to hear a feminine reply.

"I dunno Zoey, I hear a washing machine going." they were quick to notice that the third figure was limping heavily, being supported by the largest comrade's arm.

Soon a tell-tale banging on the door told them the group meant business.

"Open up! We know your in there!" the first voice had suddenly become aggressive with a small crack of honest hope.

"State your business." Nic finally spoke up, making her voice as professional as possible.

"Oh thank god." the female exclaimed. "We just came in from the bridge in Rayford, one of our men was killed and we got an injured one right here."

Nic briefly thought about leaving the three wanderers to their Witchy fate, it was a world with no law or order right? Alturism can only lead to a butch of idiots wasting supplies or getting the good guys killed.

"_**RRRRRAAAAARRGHH!"**_ the tell-tale call of a Hunter flipped a few switches.

Nic tore her away through the barricade and flung open the door. The three were backing away fearfully from the Hunter, the growling creature dodging the frenzied pistol bullets.

The two ladies ran outside, suddenly noticing the cold air. The con-lady grabbed the "Zoey" by the scruff of her pink jacket and the men by their linked arms, dragging all three inside while Rochelle smacked the creature smartly on the head with her newly aquired golf club.

After the safe-door was seccured and the barricade reformed, they turned to look at the newly-found survivors.

The largest of the three, a muscled tattooed (rather pig-like if you were to ask Nic) man, had the most astonished look on his face.

"Nice hit." he raised his eyebrows to Rochelle, who reacted (to Nic's horror) with a coy smile.

They were all alerted to the frantic stamping on the stairs, followed by a sleepy-looking Coach and a very wet Ellis. Supposedly the hick had just finished his shower when the commotion started.

"What's all the commotion down here?" Coach's sleeply haze did not recognise the three newcomers as existing.

"Pulled in these idiots barely a second ago. Just came in from Rayford they said." Nic's tone of voice was like biting on tinfoil to the new survivors.

Ellis' eyes widened at the sight of non-infected faces happily. "We haven't seen anyone since Savannah! Ellis Miller at your service." He gave all three an aggressively welcoming hand shake before passing the conversation to the heavy-set man.

Coach's head turned to the new faces surprisedly. "Name's Coach. Ya'll have anything to report from the city?"

"Main bridge's generator is empty, lost most of the fuel in a freak gas spill. We were about to clean up and move on but a Tank snuck up on us and we ran down the scaffolding to the other side." Zoey was obviously the leader of the three, a fact that made a proud smirk form on Nic's face.

"You said a minete ago one of your men got killed. How'd ya lose him?" Rochelle asked a bit fearfully.

"_Three Tanks!_ Old buzzard went down to raise the bridge, keep the masses of infected out ya know? I swear the one that chased us was one of 'em!" the biker replied frantically, the loss of a teammate seemed to be a rather touchy subject to him.

"Calm down Francis, I doubt Tanks are even able to use their fingers properly let alone seek vengence." the injured man soothed, his messed-up leg was obviously impeading his spirit.

"I'm guessing all three of you need a place to lay-low to avoid vengeful blobs of muscle and hatred." Rochelle offered warmly, throwing a mischievous look to Francis. "First ones upstairs gets race-car beds."

Unsurprisingly to Nic, the four men scrambled upstairs giggling like children.

Only Zoey was brave enough to ask the most obvious question. "We are going to have to bunk together like zombie-killing penguins aren't we?"

"Yep." the two other women replied in unison.

**=Sorry for the delay! Been a bit sick all week. I hope you all enjoy the inclusion of the original survivors. Please leave a review! :D**


	5. The Three Knights: Act Two

"The Three Knights and the Royal Pillow Fight"

Sorting out beds was surprisingly easy. Francis and Ellis agreed to take the couch and armchair respectively while Coach and the injured Louis were given the beds, this left the three women to share the queen-sized bed together.

The ladies had tossed in a whole batch of clothing, the group raiding the drawers for anything that would fit. Coach was looking extremely uncomfortable with the snug football jeresy, mostly because it was of a team he didn't particularly like.

Ellis and the ladies on the other hand were more than happy just to grab some pajamas and dressing gowns as temporary wear. Despite agreeing to a new set of pants, the biker known as Francis refused to let anyone to lay a finger on his leather vest.

Dinner was awkward to say the least. Rochelle and Ellis were tasked with cracking the almost-past-expiration-date eggs into measuring jugs for scrambling while Nic was opening cans of sweetcorn and peas into shiny steel pots.

Rochelle found herself throwing glances at Francis' muscled form, accidentally meeting his eyes the two looked away from each other embarrassed.

Nic snorted in both annoyance and knowing. _"Middle of the fucking zombie apocalypse and they're passing notes and holding hands."_

"So..." Coach broke the silence. "Where ya'll from?"

"We all met up in Philadelphia a week ago, I guess CEDA has been trying to keep the whole thing under wraps down here." Zoey answered, breathing an air of rough authority. Nic figured that she'd been a newbie cop or something. "I was a student at Aldritch."

"_Oh."_ the con-lady took note of this, a tiny bit relived that the gun-toting lady wasn't a member of the squadron.

Louis sighed and continued with. "I was working down at Franklin Brothers, the IT company, before the infected came." his solemn face broke into a smile. "You won't believe what messed up my leg."

"What?" Ellis leaned over the counter to hear better, briefly forgetting that his hands were dripping wet with uncooked egg white.

"Well...it involved Witches."

"I'd believe that." Nic butted in, reminded of her own injuries.

"How about a _boat-load_ if them?" Louis grinned at their stunned expressions. "All in bikinis."

The group of survivors broke in a mess of snickers and immature laughter, Ellis and Zoey even more so.

"How about you Francis?" Rochelle raised an eyebrow in a teasing manner, cranking the egg-beater around the measuring jug.

"Well I ...uh...used to be part of a motorcycle gang, we were having a big hurrah down at our old watering hole but then my lady friend tried to eat me." he shrugged as if it was just a minor inconvenience.

"Hell's Legion?" Nic asked, examining his tattooed arm.

"Ever heard of us?"

"Better." Nic held out one of her ringed fingers, showing off a gold ring with a strange symbol on it. "Rolled with them in the early 2000's, never had quite the heart to get rid of this old thing."

The biker stared at the ring with a shocked expression before smirking. "Nice to see a sister get out all right." he and the con-lady bumped fists as she began setting down plates.

"But in all seriousness Miss Zoey..." Coach's voice was threatening to trail off, as if his subconscious was screaming at him not to pry. "Where are ya'll heading? I mean we're going to New Orleans for the evacuation."

The student sighed, placing her hands under her chin before answering bluntly. "I'd hate to break it to ya but CEDA isn't going to help us."

The other four survivors stood shocked (well not so much in Nic's case) at this statement, Ellis almost dropping his spatula.

"You don't know that." Coach replied, a new strange danger had crept into his voice, like a wolf protecting it's pack. "The evacuation in New Orleans has to be open."

"Sure you might get rescued but what's CEDA gonna do when they got cha?" Francis commented, causing a wave of deep thought. "We got evacuated to some kind of disease center I guess but the place didn't even have enough people to hold off the infected. Place got over-run fast."

"Suppose they didn't tell you about Carriers either right?" Zoey's voice became dangerously harsh. "We sure as hell didn't know about them either."

Only the con-lady was lucid enough to serve out the meal, her head reeling over all sorts of possibilities.

"Carriers?" Nic raised an eyebrow. "You mean we're the Typhoid Marys of the Green Flu?"

"Pretty much. From what the doctors told me, the immunity stops you from exhibiting symptoms but you can spread it to others." Louis stated, looking both uncomfortable at the conversation and glad at the eggs shoveled onto his plate.

"That- that can't be true..." Coach's fire had begun to die out. "We haven't seen anyone since Savannah- we haven't been bitten!"

"Yeah? Well this zombie apocalypse doesn't play fucking fair!" the pink-jacketed girl had transformed into the angriest of beasts. "It keeps changing! It's...airborne or something one day and fluid-based the next."

"You mean like mutating?" Ellis finally asked fearfully. "Is that why we've been seeing those really weird zombies poking around?"

"Damn straight." Francis confirmed through a mouthful of scrambled eggs and mushy peas.

The silence in the small farmhouse was devastating. Each and every survivor was in the deepest core of thought, trying to unearth a single nugget of reasonably optimistic possiblity.

"**BULLSHIT."** the con-lady barked loudly, startling the rest of the group.

"Nic, what are yo-" Rochelle was cut off by the older woman's sharp voice.

"Look here _**missy**_." she stabbed a finger at Zoey. "Typhoid Mary was a singular case, how fucked up can a disease get that it has it's own fucking populace?" Her voice was so harsh and ice-like that no one had the courage to speak against it.

"This whole "carrying the disease" bullshit? Those scientists fucked up on those calculations, it isn't you who are causing the disease, it's the fucking _**hordes of infected chasing you!**_ And even if yeah, we're the last clean people on earth, those infected are gonna_** die off **_with no food, water, or even the fucking brains to take care of themselves. So you drop that sourpuss face and fight, ya got that **soldier**_!_?"

That last word seemed to snap something in Zoey, something about the nickname reminded her of something that the Savannah group didn't know about. Before Louis or Francis could reach out and intervene, the student had delivered a firm slap against the con-lady's cheek, tears streaming down her face.

Nic did her best to keep her composure but suddenly collided with the body of the younger lady, attempting to-

"_Hug?"_ the gambling woman mentally blurted, suddenly feeling the surprisingly strong arms of the twenty something year old wrap around her middle in a tight grip.

Nic had very little experience with emotional people, mostly she'd just walk straight out and ignore sob scenes or tantrums, but at the moment this chick needed a goddamn hug.

The con-lady awkwardly placed her hands on Zoey's shoulders, patting them slightly. Her face began to sting where Zoey had slapped her but it was nothing compared to standing on her bad foot for too long.

"Hey, hey, come on now Zoe." Louis began soothing. "She...actually has a point. Maybe the disease is spreading simply because it's following the healthy folk. And if what she says is true, then there will be a whole mess of other survivors out there."

Zoey sniffled with a strange croaking noise. She raised her head to look at the other survivors, every single one of them offering a hand in comfort.

It was then that the ball dropped for her.

"_Here we all are...four new people, all seem to be getting along all right...And this chick's got one comfy bosom."_

She was pulled from her rambling thoughts by the owner of said bosom who raised her head to look the other dead in the eye.

"No more tears all right kid? We've got a dinner to eat." her tone of voice seemed to border on annoyance and genuine care.

The team were oh so silent for the rest of the meal. Zoey's eyes had the tell-tale burns of tears down her face while the side of Nic's face had reddened into a dulled scarlet.

Even the usually talkative Ellis was disturbed by the recent events and had resorted to gobbling up his food as fast as possible so he could isolate himself on his armchair.

As the last crumb of food disappeared behind filled mouths, Nic insisted on cleaning the plates, under the justification that dirty plates were "Fucking disgusting." Or course in her mind she could only see the image of rotted food smears caked to cracked china.

As the sun began to cast an orange-colored hue over the farmland, the infected began seeking out areas to hide away from the blinding dusk sun. The survivors swore they heard a Witch's angered screech in the distance, to which Ellis began making up a funny story involving the Witch that made Zoey and Rochelle giggle like children.

"I don't know about ya'll." Coach broke the silence with a yawn. "But I'm exhausted, my first day into the zombie apocalypse has been an unexpected one."

"I'm feeling a bit bushed myself. This bum leg isn't helping anything." Louis replied, steadying himself on the kitchen counter. "Who's gonna be on watch duty?"

The biker held his hand up let a kid in a classroom. "Me and hayseed can keep a look out for the indestructible Keith and the adventurous Witch." he smirked as he looked forward to another one of Ellis' outlandish tales.

"Then it's settled. I gonna hit the hay, first one there gets dibs on pillows." with that the con-lady zoomed upstairs as fast as her sore feet could carry her, quickly followed by a very determined Rochelle and Zoey.

Nic suddenly collided with the plush softness of the mattress as the college student gave her a playful shove. Trying to retaliate, she grabbed the closest pillow and swung it behind her, not aware of who was there.

Soon with the aid of three other pillows and a sudden rush of giddy adrenaline, the room bursted into a flurry of tacky-colored fabric and happy laughter. Every hit with the fluffy softness of the pillow caused another eruption of giggling.

Soon a soft tapping on the door alerted them to the two men standing there, both looking a bit sheepish.

"What's all the commotion up here?" Ellis tried to ask innocently.

To which Nic replied as bluntly as possible. "Naked Lesbian Pillow Fight, you sissies in?"

"Don't mind if we do." Francis smirked, suddenly pulling a couch pillow from behind his back and dragging Ellis into the fray. Soon the room became nothing bit a loud hum of laughter and excited squeaks.

"**YOUNG'UNS."** They suddenly stopped to see a absolutely furious Coach standing in the doorway, eyes blazing. Nic believed that he was just a few hair curlers short of a parent in a sitcom. **"CUT THAT SHIT OUT."**

Francis huffed in disappointment, placing a kiss on Rochelle's hand. "I bid they well M'Lady, those adventuring Witches aren't gonna kill themselves."

With that the boys dispersed, leaving Coach to sigh tiredly before closing the bedroom door.

Left with nothing else to do, the girls began turning in for the night. A quick decision was made that Zoey would be in the middle with the two other ladies on the sides.

As Zoey began removing her pink-jacket, Nic caught a glimpse of a particularly nasty map of bruises. The college student caught her gaze and replied.

"First encounter with a Charger, got me by surprise back in the woods near Pennsylvania."

"Ouch. I've had the same amount of trouble with the Spitters." The news intern showed Zoey her practically destroyed shoes, partly dissolved from standing too long in Spitter goo. "Nic here though got some of the nastier beatings."

The gambling women subconsciously traced her fingers over her nicked forehead and healed chest (both courtesy of Flamin' Bitch), lowering the neck of her shirt to give Zoey a better look.

She seethed in empathy before asking. "Witch?"

"**On fire**. Almost pushed me off the goddamn elevator." Nic flung the thin sheets over her frame before letting the other two join.

"Hey kiddo?" Nic asked cautiously.

"Yeah?" Zoey replied, sinking into a crease in the mattress.

"Sorry for blowing up at ya earlier. I mean this time yesterday I was downing shots and playing blackjack, now I have to fight for my freaking life."

"No sweat. You won't believe that kind of breakdown I had when I got thrown out there."

With that the ladies huddled together tightly together under all too-thin sheets, shivering the breezy cold away.

_**Meanwhile...**_

"Huh? Well what do ya know?" Ellis exclaimed surprised, catching the sight of a wandering Witch, supposedly the girl was a sort of supernatural enthusiast in life and was covered with macabre clothing and accessories.

"I told ya man. Vampires." The biker replied smugly, aiming the Sniper rifle straight at the crying baby's head.

**=I really wanted there to be a serious discussion between the two groups of survivors regarding the Carriers. I made Nic lose her shit in this chapter because that would be what canon-Nick would do in that situation, I hope I didn't derail any of the original character' personalities. Please review! :D**


	6. The Three Knights: Act Three

"The Three Knights and The City of Stench"

Nic awoke to a mess of chestnut hair covering her face. She and the other girls ended up cuddling together overnight and got their limbs tangled, most notably was the student's surprisingly long hair. After spitting out the loose strands, she groggily removed herself from the bed, almost tripping on Zoey's sneakers as she made it to the door.

"_Goddamn college kids..._" she muttered, staggering like a Witch down the stairs.

Last night had been restless, despite having three people for warmth, being cramped together plus nightmares tend to really disrupt the whole "beauty sleep" thing. Nic could even recall one moment during the subconscience moments of sleep when Rochelle unexpectedly swung an arm around what her sleepy self thought was a pillow, but ended up slapping her hand on the other two women's shoulders.

As she made her way into the living room, she saw that both the hick and the biker had fallen asleep, their limbs splayed haphazardly on their respective resting places. Ellis seemed to have been slipped into sleep suddenly going by the hat stuck between him and the chair arm.

Francis on the other hand was clutching his Sniper Rifle like a child would a teddy bear, his head resting against his meaty, tattooed forearm and a lumpy cushion.

The con-lady just sighed and made her way to the kitchen area, her nose wrinkling at what was obviously moulded pumpernickle in the bread drawer.

"_Looks like toast is off the menu._" she snarked to herself, picking up the brown-green loaf with a paper towel and tossing it into the garbage bag under the sink.

The fridge yelded moderate results, some decent milk here, a bruised Granny Smith here, a long forgotten sour-cream and chive spread in the back. Nothing really that filling to eat as they had polished off all of the eggs last night.

She froze when a cold hand made contact with the back of her neck. Whipping around as quickly as possible, she grabbed the intruder by the shoulder and readied a well-placed punch.

Well until the intruder replied with: "Woah Nic! Didn't know you weren't a morning person."

Nic growled in relief, releasing the poor hayseed from her grip. With the random nature of the infected you can never be too sure.

"I'm also not a "sneak up behind me" person either Overalls." she joked with an icy tone and began setting the half-jug of milk and the bag of apples onto the table. "'Sides I need you to raid the pantry, we only got milk and what not left in here."

Ellis nodded happily and flung the overhead cabinates, skimming his hands on the boxes of cereal, jars of peanut and hazelnut butter, and cans be on cans of assorted goods. He grabbed a few beans and green beans for the morning feast along with tins of canned pear and peach halves.

Ragged yawning alterted the two to the stairs, where a dazed and sniffly Coach was blowing his nose into a smudged yellow hanky.

"Mornin' young'ns." he mumbled automatically, planting himself on the armchair and grabbing the long forgotten newspaper off the table, before realising it was dated two weeks ago and promptly tossed it at the snoring Francis.

The biker yawned and tossed around in the safety of his couch cushions before rising from his sleeping position like the Frankenstein Monster, as if the paper didn't even touch him.

A long and loud yawn emerged from his mouth before he opened his eyes. Smacking his lips, his half-asleep smile fell when he realised that he was still in a farmhouse in Nowhere, Georgia instead of speeding down the Route 20 on his beautiful custom Harley-Davidson.

"What's for grub?" he hummed tiredly, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand.

"Usual, canned shit and dry stuff." the con-lady informed, uncanning a tin of green beans and tossing them into the pot with a small _splash _of water.

The biker groaned, clumsily grabbing his leather boots and attemping to put them back on his feet, only to mix up the left and right. His distressed groaning ceased upon the arrival of Rochelle, her ponytail had gone undone in her sleep and her braided locks fell to her shoulders.

"Good morning Apocalypse!" she greeted as if she was still on the air. "It's a balmy 100 freaking degress and someone didn't flush!"

"I flushed plenty of times." Ellis replied with an offended tone. His eyes suddenly widened at the implication. Rushing over to the sink, his worst fears were answered by the loud gurgling of the tap refusing to give water.

"**Shit.**" Nic seethed through her teeth, glad that the stove was still opperational. "Water pressure must have shut off."

The thumping of feet on the stairs revealed a very concerned Zoey, ferociously scrubbing her hands with a moist towelette.

"Is the water gone down here too?" she asked as she tossed the towelette into the sink and wipped her hands on the kitchen towel.

"Looks like it, why?" the redneck inquired, jumping back as the tap spluttered a viscous brown liquid that gave off such a stench that it burned his eyes.

Everyone quickly held their noses to their sleeves and shut off the sink. As the last of the horrid water seeped away, the group was left with a lingering smell of pure flith.

After a brutal spraying of air freshener, the tired form of Louis staggered down the stairs, holding a tissue to his face and groaning.

"A sewage pipe must have burst somewhere and infected our water supply." he coughed into the tissue and grabbed his mounted machine gun from it's place in the umbrella stand. "We aren't going to survive long if we don't move soon."

"We'll get our asses in gear after breakfast right? No point in surviving on an empty stomach." Nic looked at the steaming green beans with a sudden distain, her appetite somewhat destroyed after getting a whiff of good ol' Georgian "produce".

The group looked uneasy, but sat down anyway to choke back a couple forkfuls of greens and a glass of milk each, Zoey sinking her teeth into an apple as she tossed out the laundry to their respective owners.

Nic visably grinned as she got her suit back, speeding upstairs to put them on. All of the blood and bile was washed out and she briefly imagined being back on the riverboats, dealing cards, hustling pool, maybe a little "bed warming" if you knew what she meant.

Her train of thought stopped when Zoey and Rochelle came into their room and began quickly slipping on their pants and shirts. Nic took the opportunity to raid the panty and sock drawer, stuffing them into a duffle bag, after a quick run to the bathroom (doing her best to ignore the smell and debris from the last few visitors) she put as many rolls of toliet paper in and zipped it up.

"Soon we'll have to resort to using money." she snickered, an image of using $100s for wipping asses popped into her head.

Downstairs as the men continued to redress themselves (Louis needing help with his shoes), Ellis began grabbing the jars of peanut (or possibly hazelnut, he didn't read the label) butter and cans of fruit, sorting them neatly into a black and blue schoolbag found under the stairs.

"Hey Hayseed, pilling up the cans will just slow ya down." Francis grumbled, pulling his leather gloves over his hands.

"I know that but with everything spoiling we won't be able to get fresh meat or fruit or anything." Ellis replied, zipping up the schoolbag and flinging it onto his back. "My mama used to say if you can't get meat, get nuts and things like that. Plus when the apples are gone we're all gonna get scurvy."

The three other men didn't bother questioning this logic. As the women of the group trudged downstairs with their own bags in tow, a low rumble alerted them to outside the farmhouse.

"_**rrrrrrugghhhhhh!"**_ the loud gurgling of a female Boomer could be heard from the window nearest to the sofa, if not for a few "shooting holes" put there by the nightwatchmen she would have been completely invisible. Her body had swelled to almost bursting, small rivers of spit rolled down her chin and onto open sores, what was worse was that she was covered in(for the lack of a better word) : Shit water.

"There's an under the river tour in Rayford. Does any of it go near the sewer?" Coach broke the silence, aiming at the grotesque zombie through a hole in the planks. She exploded with a wet _bang_, coating the side of the farmhouse with yellow-green bile.

"More than likely. From what I could learn, the sewer and the tour are leftovers from when the underground railway got scrapped." Zoey's mind had clicked instantly from "College-kid" to "Leader" the moment zombies came into play. "It's mostly a complete tourist trap, but it does have a handy link from one side of the bridge to the other."

"If everybody's ready; let's go." Nic ordered, flinging open the front door with tremendous force. The group of farm horses were nibbling on the tall grass infront of the farmhouse and were paying the survivors no mind.

The con-lady was sure that she heard Ellis squeal happily when a large expectant mare allowed him to rub her muzzle and golden mane. It visably pained him to walk away from the beautiful equines and back to the Jimmy Gibbs Jr.

The car was very much cramped. Ellis and Louis took up the front seats with the hayseed driving and the IT man resting his leg. The other five members of the team were hazardly stuffed into the backseat and were obviously uncomfortable. Francis insisted on letting Rochelle sit in his lap, the reporter giggling coyly when he made the request.

Nic on the other hand was stuck in the middle of it all and was seething through her teeth as the mess of limbs and the uneven road caused her injuries to flare up, the air was very stuffy like being trapped in a barn, giving the con-lady a sense of claustrophobia.

The car came to a sudden stop right infront of the bridge. From the look of it, it had been be raised to keep out the infected. Nic let out a sigh of relief when they all exited the car, giving her some breathing space.

"We'll have to make a few short cuts through the buildings, looks like the Tank from eariler destroyed the scaffolding." Zoey pointed to the walkway higher up on the bridge, almost torn completely in the middle. "There's a lot of houses that sort of run into each other so we can make our way through the park nearby."

Whatever happened to Rayford, it was long gone by now. Cars piled up on eachother, broken shop windows adorned the narrow streets. The quayside seemed to have very little infected, going by the fact that they had the nasty habit of tumbling down stone steps and cracking their skulls, or tripping over a low hanging rail and plunging into the murky water below.

The group squeezed their way into what looked like an abandoned internet cafe. A few cans of cola were scattered on the floor, the tiles caked with a sugary brown film. Zoey was certainly correct when she said about running into eachother, the building in itself seemed to have no real structure, rooms intersected seemingly at random, like an office above the cafe was just down the hallway from a bar.

Exiting the bar (and fighting the urge to grab a cold one or two), they found themselves in a low-lying residental area, almost all light was blocked by the very high, stony wall across from the buildings. Looks like Rayford was planning on rebuilding this part of the city but never got around to it.

Moving around required tradversing awkwardly placed cars, a large tanker had blocked off the road running into the quayside, causing an obvious pile up.

"There's a park on the highest level, runs into the main part of the city. From there we'll make our way into the underground tour." Louis stated, aiming his machine gun in the direction of a sneaking Smoker, causing it to explode into a fine green mist.

The apartments twisted in and out of either a furnished living room into a crumbing mess of half-finsihed woodwork. The infected here seemed a lot more antsy than usual, shuffling away from the doors leading to the outside and yelping when they brushed off eachother.

The reason became clear when they heard the low moaning of a stationary Witch.

The group sneaked quitely into the park, twigs and unkempt grass crackled under their feet. The park was beginning to overgrow with all sorts of vines and wild scrubs.

The infected here were...dapper to say the least. They were all done up in tuxedos, gowns, and there was at least one clergy member in the mix.

The Witch was sobbing into her hands in the middle of a gazebo, adorned with a beautiful white dress, a veil, jewelery and buckets of blood staining the ground around her. The situation was obvious; an entire wedding party of people got infected and Bridezilla turned Witch.

_"Wedding dress, crying...this brings back some bad memories."_ Nic mused to herself, pushing the bad memory away into the back of her brain.

"This is one wedding where I don't mind being the bridesmaid." Rochelle whispered, trying to avoid hitting off the scattered plastic chairs and smashed wine glasses.

The tension was killing them, every step seemed to startle the bride to the point of rage, with her blocking the only way through it would be near impossible to pass undetected.

Then a guitar screech broke the silence with a loud;

"_The bus is on the road sweet Georgia fades away_

_We'll be burning down Louisiana by the very next day  
No, sleep will never take me, my mind is stuck on you..."_

A random infected had smacked into the jukebox, accidentally starting up the song. The Bride Witch screamed louder than any banshee or siren, thrashing around as she tried to set her sights on any form of target. Unforntunatley her gaze fell upon a shocked Ellis, charging at him with hateful eyes.

"I changed my mind! I don't wanna get married no more!" the redneck ran in a zig-zagging motion to try and shake her off his tail. She dug her previously-manicured nails straight into the back of his left shoulder, tearing the skin something fierce as he screamed loud enough to stagger her.

"Ah, shit!" Nic yelled, plugging the Witch full of bullets, the bride didn't even seem to notice the full-on assualt of weaponry until a loud blast got her in the back of the head .

"Mm, now that's a shotgun wedding." Coach joked smugly, holding his auto shotgun like a warrior's sword.

"Spectacular, Coach. But Ellis is kinda bleeding right now." the con-lady applauded the humor and rushed to the mechanic's side.

"Aww shit...she got my back something fierce." Ellis seethed with pain, trying to move the attached arm but was left with even more blinding pain. "Shit, shit , **shit!**"

"Must have pulled a muscle. We'll get it wrapped up, get some ice on it and you'll still be able to use it, all right?" she talked with the air of a doctor, wrapping the good arm around her shoulder, she let Ellis lean against her for support.

Shuting the saferoom behind them, the team took a good look at their injuries. Louis insisted that his leg was perfectly fine but still visably limped, Nic's foot dressings had to be changed to avoid infection, but Ellis was atleast lucky that the muscle in his shoulder didn't tear or else he wouldn't be using his arm anytime soon.

As they wrapped up any of their cuts and bruises, Francis took a quick look at the other safehouse door. Turning away from it, he gave a look of pure distain.

"I hate nightlife."

**=Sorry it took so long! Been sick recently and school is cracking down hard. Please leave a review! :D**


	7. The Three Knights: Act Four

"The Three Knights and The Cave of Waste"

The sun had given away to a spring of rain, painting the sky a dark grey and allowing the neon signs of the city to brighten the path. The seven survivors groaned in annoyance as the droplets of water dripped onto their bare skin and into bandaged wounds.

Oh and the smell was awful, like a raccoon died inside of a radiator in high summer.

The group determined that the smell was caused by the backed up sewage system, it's origin was at a jazz club a block or two away. Nic growled audabily as they noticed the blocked off road, forcing the group to go through the buildings.

Rayford looked like it took the brunt of the Georgian evacuations, cable wires hung like vines from blasted-open buildings and bodies lay haphazardly around store fronts. One grizzly sight that the group saw was inside of a tattoo parlour where, not only did they learn that Coach had thousands of tattoos on him, saw what looked like an improvised surgery on an infected individual.

"I've never done color before." Nic quipped, lightening up the mood as she looked at the massive wall of designs amd patterns. "Anybody wants one let me know."

Slipping around the back of a sleazy pool hall, the team was hit with even nastier stench.

"Oh god..." Rochelle groaned, trying to keep down the little breakfast she had eaten as she saw an entire ditch overflowing with murky, foul smelling water.

"Rain must have backed up the sewer system, we're lucky that it wasn't a thunderstorm." Louis chuckled darkly, reloading his machine gun and holding his nose.

The team tettered precariously on wooden planks, blasting any infected who tried to climb up and attack them. The planks were rickety and sopping wet from the rain, making every single step a gamble.

Luckily Nic was a gambler and kept a cool head even as her sub-concious was screaming at her to fear the water below.

Safely over to the otherside, they swore they heard the blare and flet the shadow of a tour bus pass behind the chain-link fence.

"Oh, man, I must be seein' things." Ellis said, rubbing the back his head in case he had bumped his cranium.

The team silently agreeded, ushering themselves into another dingy little bar, this one showing signs of life.

In the back of the bar near the pool table they saw that the walls were covered in graffiti, from;

"**Ed is the king of Zombies"** (which Zoey giggled at for some reason)

and **"THE END IS REALLY ****FUCKING****NIGH" **followed by lines of dialog stating that there was no need for swearing, apocalypse or not.

Most of them were humorous and light-hearted, more than likely written by joking kids and drunken mules passing through trying to make the best of a hopeless situation. A quick look at the toilet instantly told them that the water had been off for a while, evidenced by the scrawls on the brickwork.

"**I flushed it 50 times and now it DOESN'T WORK!"**

"**You IDIOT!" "**YOU ARE THE REAL MONSTER" 

Even in the zombie apocalypse people had the time to be jokers.

Scrambling upstairs the team got a glimpse at a suitcase, stuffed to the brim with dollar bills and handguns. Whatever was going to happen here was most certainly going to be illegal.

"Don't mind if I do." Zoey whistled, grabbing one of the pistols happily.

On the top floor of the complex a large wooden plank lay between an outdoor stairwell and the blasted-open side of the building opposite, the only way through to the jazz club would be through a large empty storage building.

"Let's hurry across the plank before a Smoker gets us." Nic joked nervously, testing the plank with her good foot before cautiously stepping across.

Teetering, now many feet in the air, the group were a bit on edge. Especially when the tell tale call of a Smoker sounded off somewhere within the building. Luckliy they made it over to the dimly-lit building with no hassle and were even able to shoot the multi-tongued zombie right in the sniffer.

Getting onto the streets, they were greeted with a slightly heavier shower of rain and dimmer neon lights. Looks like the power was just beginning to run down.

"Through the Jazz Club!" Coach yelled as he barreled through a crowd of idle infected, almost tripping over the music equipment scattered on the ground. Looks like a big name band was having a gig here just before all hell broke loose.

Francis swore that the drum set had "Midnight Riders" scrawled on it but was too occupied with supporting Louis on one arm and shooting at what he called vampires with his other.

Pounding down the wooden stairs they were met with a flimsy bridge, support beams, and a large path of old brick work and concrete. Along the walls were framed pictures of horse-drawn carriages and the construction of brick buildings. Rayford was definetly milking the "local history" shtick for all it's worth.

"Man, this is a real..." the heavy-set man began, only to be cut off by the con-lady.

"Shithole?"

"Yeah. It's a shithole." Coach confirmed, kicking the side of a brick wall, which replied with a small cloud of pale dust.

Ellis and Zoey were leading the pack, pretty much following their noses to the path under the bridge. Stopping at a sign titled "Phase 2: Soon to be completed!" they were met by a cubical path of stairs leading downwards into a pit of murky, brown water.

"Oh god..." Zoey groaned, her senses bombarded with stench. "Looks like the path to the otherside overflooded."

"Well shit. I can't go through there, my foot might get infected." Nic stated, cringing at the thought of having to even go near the disgusting liquid. She knew horror stories about horrifc infections and diseases living in human waste and she didn't have the time for spreading typhoid and any number of nasty parasites.

"Anyone with a leg injury get on someone's back." Coach ordered, readying his knees to jump down. "Francis you hold up Louis."

"Agreed" the two replied, the biker hoisting the IT worker onto his back.

"I'll carry Nic." Ellis stated ethuastically, effortlessly lifting the smaller woman onto his back. The action soon reminded him of his pulled muscle, causing his face to twist into a mess of silent pain.

"You all right Overalls?" the con-woman asked teaseningly, resting her chin on the top of his cap.

"Never better." he lied through clenched teeth, cluching the sides of her legs tighter.

"Let's go team. Geronimo!" the college student didn't even give them a heads up as she dropped down into the flithy water below, causing a spray off water vapour behind her.

Dropping in one-by-one, Nic swore that she may have strangled the poor hick carrying her as Ellis started gasping for breath.

"Phew! There's barely any oxygen down here!" he gasped, his lungs filled with musty, foul-smelling air.

"Seeing how poop doesn't really need air holes we can see why." Louis snarked, resting his machine gun on Francis' shoulder.

They trudged throught the thin sewer water, Nic mentally panicking at the thought of being submerged in such flith. The faces of the entire team were screwed up into disgusted scowls.

"Hey suit; wanna Chicken fight?" Francis teased, readying his arms and Louis for a tussle.

"DON'T YOU DARE." the con-lady barked loudly, not wanting to get knocked off her personal pack mule.

Making their way to a walkway a good few feet higher than the water, Nic and Louis were reluctant to let go and clinged to the two men's bodies as if their lives depended on it. Francis grumbled at the inconvience but Ellis was surprisingly chipper at the demand, adjusting the con-lady so that she could hold on better.

They were suddenly halted by a metal gate leading to a metal walkway above the water. If there was a red flag; the release button would surely be one.

"Why does whenever we set off things like this it causes a horde?" Rochelle complained before reluctantly pressing down on the button.

"_**BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!"**_ the gate sprung to life and gave off a very loud alarm as it opened. Just like a dinner bell came the tell-tale splashing of feet. Soon there was a large horde of infected trrying to scale the fenced wall below the survivors.

"Keep runnin'!" Francis hollered, trying to ignore the sound of Louis' gunshots right above his head. He was almost caught off guard when a Jockey attempted to grasp his head, only to meet the barrel of Louis' gun.

None of them were really sure exactly how there would be infected all the way down here, but it was possible that they had simply wandered in through the jazz club or more chillingly; there was an evacuation route going through here and cue zombies.

Nic shuddered at the thought of anyone getting infected and dying in such a stink hole. At least the ones topside died in the sun, even if there was no more graves being dug.

The walkway broke halfway down, forceing the survivors to go through the sewer water once more, this time the water had coagulated into a strange type of sludge.

"Keep your heads down!" Zoey yelled out, pointing towards a low tunnel and aiming her gun near the ground in case the zombies started crawling.

Ellis and Francis had to pratically hunch over in order for their injured teammates to pass through without hitting their heads.

Finally a ladder came into view, leading to the beautiful red, metal door of the saferoom at the top.

Nic and Louis decended from their perches and awkwardly climbed up the yellow ladder, both on edge just in case a Charger was waiting for them.

Luckily it looked like Karma Charger was taking a break and the seven survivors passed through without a problem, save for their ruined shoes and pants legs.

"Let's all agree to never go near a sewer ever again." Rochelle asked, her face an unhealthy shade of green.

"If I had my way I'd make sure you'd never see the bottom of a sink ever again." Francis attempted to flirt, his ears turning pink from embarassment. He gave a goofy grin when the reporter replied with a giggle.

"How's the shoulder holding up Overalls?" Nic inspected the shoulder that she'd been sitting on for the past five to ten minetes.

Ellis hissed as she flet up the area, trying to put on a brave face. "I guess it's all right."

The con-lady simply gave him a teasing smirk and slapped a cold pack to his chest.

"Everybody ready?" Zoey asked, reloading her gun. "Then lets go."

**=A short chapter this time. I'm still trying to smooth over some ideas for this fic such as; Should Bill be alive? (ie I found it weird that you could die multiple times throughout the game but that particular death was final) Should the original survivors go with the new ones? (because let's not kid ourselves, one's injured and they are only three people). Please leave a Review and comment on what path the story should take! :D**


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